Crackpots
by kithara1013
Summary: Read Author's Bio First: This is a crossover with Dead Zone, Sentinel, Monk and possibly Numb3rs.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Crackpots

Author: Kithara1013

Rating: T

Genre: Crossover

Shows: The Sentinel, Stargate: SG-1, Dead Zone, Monk, possibly Numb3rs if I can ever figure it out

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. Please don't sue

Summary: Things get a little crazy in San Francisco when "random" events happen and friendships form.

Where this takes place in the shows:

DZ: After Cold Hard Truth, before Season 3 finale

Sentinel: After TSbyBS. Blair is a cop

SG-1: Post s7 premiere/pre-Atlantis

Monk: Before Sharona leaves.

* * *

Johnny yawned as he made his way to the door. He grimaced slightly as his hip twinged. He had been a lot better recently; however sometimes after a day of extreme movement he was sore. Shrugging it off, he opened the door to see Bruce's grinning face. 

"Morning John."

Johnny grinned. "Bruce," he said then started moving to the kitchen.

Bruce followed Johnny, closing the door behind him. "How're you doin' my man?"

Johnny went to the island and continued chopping peppers for breakfast. "Can't complain. Want some?"

"Weeeell, I wouldn't want to impose… but since you're offering, sure." Bruce sat down on a stool. "Oh yeah, here's the paper." He set it down on the counter.

"Thanks," Johnny said. He took the peppers and put them in the pan to start frying. "So what's on the agenda today?"

"Well first we're gonna eat your food. Then we're gonna exercise."

"Exercise?" Johnny added the egg into the pan then looked at Bruce. "I'm fine. I don't need to exercise, I exercise enough," he scolded, shaking his spatula at Bruce.

Bruce snorted. "Walking to that piece of junk you call a car is not exercise. That's called lazy."

Johnny took some cheese and added it to the omelets. "I am not lazy. I'm just busy."

"Doing what? Watching Friends? Well Friends is over. No more excuses."

"Yeah yeah, whatever." He placed an omelet in front of Bruce. "Here, eat before I take it away. And pass me the front page."

Proud with his victory, Bruce picked up the paper and handed him the requested section with a flourish.

Johnny grabbed it and glanced at the headline, then froze. His fork dropped from his hand but he didn't notice it as he focused on the paper, the headline and the pictures.

"John? Earth to psychic man, what is it?" Johnny jerked and looked up at Bruce who had gotten up to stand next to Johnny. "Did you have a vision?"

Johnny nodded. "Yeah." He looked at the headline again. Price Hike on Public Transportation.

"So?" Bruce gestured, "What was it?"

Johnny swallowed. "I saw my death."

* * *

"So, let me get this straight," Bruce said as he buckled his seat belt. "You saw a newspaper headline proclaiming your death-"

"And the death of 3 other people," Johnny interrupted.

"A total of 4 people. In San Francisco. And now we're flying there?"

Johnny looked at Bruce. "What do you want me to do? Let those other people die?" The plane began to accelerate down the runway.

"No," Bruce said. "But you couldn't call them or something? You have to fly to your doom?"

"That's morbid. Besides, you didn't have to come."

"Yes I did." Bruce smirked. "Someone has to make sure you don't get your fool ass killed."

* * *

"Ah, sunny California. And am I here with a beautiful woman at my side?" Bruce looked at Johnny.

"Ha ha," Johnny said. They stopped in front of a curb and looked around.

"So genius, now what?"

Johnny mentally shrugged but continued looking around. "Hey Bruce, got any change?"

Bruce nodded. "Yeah, 'course I do." He pulled some coins out of his pocket and handed it to John.

"Thanks, man." He put the change into the newspaper machine and pulled out a newspaper, holding it in front of his face.

(Hopefully this will be continued. You can read on to see what happens next if you like)


	2. Chapter 2

Sharona was putting the finishing touches on her hair when the phone rang. "Benjy, get the phone," she called. "Oh!" She ran out of the bathroom. "If it's Adrian, I'm not here!"

She watched as Benjy picked up the phone. "Hello? Hi Mr. Monk." Sharona sighed. "No she already left… I'm sure Mr. Monk… Yes I checked, she's gone… I don't know where she is… I don't know if she has her cell phone."

Benjy say down near at the table and grabbed the comic he had left there, glancing through it. "No I don't know who this new guy is… I haven't met him… No I didn't look at mom's shoes! Why would I?" Sharona rolled her eyes and went to get her jacket. "I don't think mom would want me checking her shoes to see where she's been. I don't even remember what she wore… She left 5 minutes ago… No she's still not outside… I don't know where she's going to eat… She didn't tell me how late she'd come home… She was wearing-"

"Oh for God's sake." Sharona finally had enough. She grabbed the phone from Benjy. "Adrian, I'm going to tell you this once. Are you listening?"

"Oh, Sharona, you are there. I thought you had left."

"Are you listening Adrian?" She asked again.

"Y-yes."

"Good. Now I am going on a date. A date is between 2 people, just 2. And these 2 people are me and Steven. Not me, Steven and Adrian. Just me and Steven. With me so far?"

"Sharona, I just wanted-"

She continued on. "We're going to eat and talk. Then I'm going to come home and go to sleep. What's missing from this scenario Adrian?"

"Uh, a movie?"

"Phone calls. I expect to receive no phone calls unless they are emergencies. An emergency does not include not being able to find the butter dish-"

"I don't have a butter dish."

"Or the trash bags or even the bleach. If it is life or death, then you call me, understand?"

"But what about-"

"Do you understand, Adrian? Say 'yes Sharona.'"

"Yes Sharona"

She smiled. "Good. Now I'm gonna go. Night Adrian."

"Good night."

Sharona sighed. "Check up on him Benjy." She kissed her son on the forehead and went to say goodbye to the babysitter.

Benjy grinned. "No problem.

* * *

"Wow, this is a nice place." Sharona smiled at Steven.

"Glad you like it. Come on in." Steven smiled down at the pretty woman. They had finished dinner earlier and decided to head back to his place to watch a movie. He took her coat and went to the hall closet. "Drink?" he asked, as he put the jackets away.

"That'd be great, thanks." She followed him down the hall.

Steven pointed to the larger room on his right. "The TV is there. Wine?"

"Actually I'll start with water." She paused at the doorway and watched him walk towards the kitchen. "Where's the bathroom?" she called out.

"It's on the left."

Sharona walked down the hall and looked at the two closed doors on the left. With a shrug, she opened the first door and peeked in. She froze before silently stepping into the room. This figures, she thought as she stared at the contents on the table, the large blocks of explosives, the LED timer and the blueprints on the desk. She quickly pulled out her cell phone and pushed the number two.

"Hello?"

"Monk! I think Steven is building a bomb," she whispered into the phone.

"What? Sharona, are you sure you aren't imaging things?"

"He's got blocks of C4, a timer and wires. You do the math! This looks pretty bad."

"Get out of there, quickly."

Ignoring her boss, Sharona shuffled thru the blueprints on the desk. "Wait, I think I know where."

Monk's voice broke through her concentration. "You need to get out of there now, Sharona."

She gasped. "Oh my God, I know what this is! He's going to-"

A hand cut her off and she tried to scream, dropping her phone in the process.

"Sharona? Sharona!" she heard Adrian's tiny voice call.

She bit her Steven's hand and elbowed him in the guy. "Adrian!" she screamed. "Help!" She tried to run for the door. Suddenly she felt a sharp pain in the back of her skull and everything faded away.

* * *

Leland Stottlemeyer sat back in his chair and sighed. After a hard, long day, he felt he deserved to relax. His kids were in bed or at least in their rooms, his wife was in her office working on some film and he had the television all to himself. He picked up the remote and was about to turn it on when the phone rang. He froze.

"Aw no. No, no, no," he said, staring at the phone and willing it to stop. He just knew his relaxing evening was going to end.

"Leland, will you get that?" Karen called out.

"Yes, dear," he called out gruffly. Defeated, he picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Captain, it's Monk."

Stottlemeyer groaned. "Oh no Monk, do you know what time it is? I'm not working. Which means I'm not working."

"Sharona's been k-kidnapped."

Stottlemeyer ran one hand over his face. "Monk, she's probably at home with Benjy. Did you call there?"

"I was on the phone when it happened. I heard it."

"What!"

"I was on the ph-"

"I heard you the first time," Stottlemeyer said. He thought for a moment. "Tell me what happened."


	3. Chapter 3

_ A Café in San Francisco_

"That wasn't my fault."

"Yes it was."

"How was I supposed to know that 'tinran' meant-"

"You're a linguist Daniel, that's why we pay you the big bucks. You're SUPPOSED to know."

"It was a slip of the tongue."

"A major one from the look of it."

"Well at least they didn't _mumblemumble_."

"What was that?"

"… Castrate us."

"THEY WANTED TO WHAT!"

"Shh, you're causing a scene."

"I'll damn well cause a scene if I want too! This is scene-worthy!"

"We got out of it didn't we?"

"Yeah, I just love running for my ahem life to the 'gate."

* * *

"You have to admit, it's pretty funny Jim."

"…."

"You're still angry?"

"…."

Are you giving me the silent treatment? It's not even my fault!"

"…."

"How old are you, 12?"

"I'm a lot older than you, junior."

"He speaks! You mean your jaw isn't wired together? Wow."

"Sandburg, if you don't-"

"You are such a drag, man. It was a misunderstanding. Don't blame me."

Jim snorted. "You probably put her up to this."

"Me?" Blair looked insulted. "Rhonda can't be bought. Believe me, I've tried. She is totally incorruptible."

"But the conference wasn't on marihuana and drugs, it was-"

"Besides, that sorry excuse for a scholar wouldn't be able-"

"On pots. And what-"

"To find his ass with-"

"Kind of pots? Cracked pots!

"Both hands if he had a freakin' road map!"

"…."

"…."

Jim smirked. "He was pretty stupid. What was his name again? Dr. Blackhead? Whiteguard?"

"Dr. Blackguard, Jim."

* * *

Jack shook his head. "I can't believe you Daniel! How long has it been since that mission? And you're now telling me what-"

Daniel held up a hand and Jack stopped talking.

"What?"

Daniel turned to look at the two men who were sharing the table next to him. They were an odd pair to be dining, but then, Daniel shouldn't really talk. Besides, this was San Francisco. There was a well-built man with the stature only military training could bring. The other was dressed in comfortable clothes with short curly hair and what looked to be some tribal jewelry.

"Daniel, whatcha doin'?"

He turned back to Jack. "Those men are talking about Dr. Blackguard."

"What was up with him? His pots were all cracked. Even his canopy jar thingies were in bad condition." Jack took a nacho from the appetizer they were sharing and bit into it with relish. "At least his jars held no nasty surprises or snakey things."

Daniel nodded, not really listening. Then he leaned over and addressed the two men. "Excuse me, but ah, you wouldn't happen to be talking about Dr. Martin Blackguard?"

The curly-haired one looked at him. "Actually we are. Do you know him?"

Daniel snorted. "Know him? The man is a crackpot."

Jim rolled his eyes at the pun and Jack grinned. "Pot calling kettle, Daniel?" Daniel glanced at Jack and turned back to the men at the other table. "We were just there."

Blair snickered. "I'm surprised he managed to get those letters at the end of his name. He was bs-ing the room."

Jim muttered. "You'd know, Sandburg."

Ignoring his companion, Sandburg shook his head. "A waste of air."

Daniel grinned. "I know what you mean. I'm Dr. Daniel Jackson, archeology."

"Blair Sandburg, anthropology."

And with that, a new friendship was born.

"How long they been at it?"

Jim sighed. "Too long."

"Do they even breathe?"

"I think they have gills, Sandburg seems to have them."

"I don't understand half the words they're saying."

"Half? You're better off than I am."

"So," Jack asked after a moment of silence, "which branch?"

"Pardon?"

"I can spot military a mile away. Which branch?"

Jim nodded. "Army. You?"

"Air Force."

"A flyboy?"

"Wanna make something of it, grunt?"

Jim held up his hands. "No, no. Wouldn't want to upset you. Know how dangerous you flyboys can be."

Ignoring the sarcasm, Jack settled into his chair. "Damn straight."

There was silence for a while. Jim looked at his new lunch partner. "Think if we left, they'd notice."

"Nope."

"Want a beer?"

"Now you're talking."

With a wave of his hand Daniel, acknowledged that he heard Jack. "Bring me back an iced tea?" Blair also asked for one and they continued their conversation. With an exasperated sigh, Jack turned and followed Jim to the bar to get their drinks.

Jim glanced at Jack. "So how'd you get stuck with yours?"

Jack took in a deep breath. "That would be… classified."

"Uh huh."

"It is. Very important, hush hush. You know how it is."

"Yeah."

"Yep, can't tell you about it. I'd have to kill you, same old story."

Jim hid a grin as he sipped at his new beer. "I've heard that story enough times."

Jack picked up Daniel's drink and turned around, looking back at the chattering men. "You?"

"What?"

"How'd you get stuck with your scientist?"

"Actually Sandburg was a ride along for awhile but that…changed. He's now a cop."

Jack nodded and started to head back to the table. "What do you suppose-"

Jack had no time to think before Jim was throwing himself at Jack and covering him with his body. A split second later, there was a crack of glass as a whiskey bottle standing on the bar wall shattered. "EVERYONE GET DOWN!" Jim shouted.

Blair and Daniel immediately dropped. They crawled towards Jim and Jack, wanting to know if the two men were all right. Many of the other patrons also got down to the floor while a few of them looked around fearfully. Jack however, made his displeasure known.

"Get the hell offa me" He shoved at Jim, who rolled off of him into a crouch. "Lay off the burgers or something."

Blair couldn't resist hitting Jim in the arm, an 'I-told-you-so' look on his face.

Jack sat up slowly. "Ok, what just happened here?"

Before Jim could answer, he ducked reflexively. There was a crack and a wooden piece of the bar flew off as a high-powered bullet flew into it.

"Sniper." Jim said as he tried to search the area for the shooter. He pulled out his ankle gun and checked it quickly. The group made their way across the few feet to their table and overturned it, creating a barrier. Jack and Jim loudly instructed the patrons to follow their example. Loved ones and strangers pulled down those who had been standing.

Jack pulled out his phone and called the authorities, noticing some other people doing the same. He looked around carefully, keeping his head out of the line of fire. "So, got any enemies around?" Jack asked, wondering who the hell would attack a café/bar in broad daylight in San Francisco and why was it always him that got into these things?

Jim shrugged. "Sure. But they're usually in Cascade." Jim looked at Blair.

Blair held his hands up. "Don't look at me man! This is NOT my fault!"

At Jack and Daniel's confused looks, Jim said, "Trouble magnet."

Jack sighed. "You too?" Daniel smacked Jack's arm.

"What about you?"

After glaring at Daniel, Jack turned back to Jim. "Ya don't get to be a Colonel without making a few enemies here and there. However most of my enemies are far away."

Daniel snorted. "Really, really far away," he added.

Jim chanced a peek over the table before quickly ducking his head as a warning shot came his way. Everyone crouched lower as pieces of wood went flying from the shot. "Did you see him Jim?" Blair asked.

Jim shook his head. "No, damnit."

Blair whispered to Jim, "What about sound? Can you pinpoint them using sound?"

Taking a deep breath, Jim extended his hearing, listening for anything out of the ordinary. He searched the area, finding nothing but rapid heartbeats. Shaking his head in frustration, he continued to look. Daniel chanced a look around at the other diners, trying to see if anyone was hurt. He raised his head slightly to get a better look. One set of diners caught his attention. A white man with a cane was arguing quietly with a black man. They seemed to be gesturing towards their group.

Jim heard the sounds of a round being chambered into a rifle and before he had a chance to pull in his hearing, a shot was fired. With a startled gasp, Jim covered his ears, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Jim? You ok?" Blair grabbed onto Jim's arm. "Jim? Breathe, man. Breathe!" he whispered.

Jack slapped Daniel on the head. "Idiot! I should shoot you myself."

Daniel ignored Jack, looking at Jim instead, the two men pushed back into his mind. "He going to be ok?"

Blair nodded. "He'll be fine. Uhhh, he has an ear infection." Blair ignored the incredulous looks from the two men.

Jim shook his head to clear it and blinked. "I know where he is. I just need a distraction to-" Before Jim could finish his sentence there was the sound of breaking glass. A canister was thrown into the restaurant, then another, emitting a noxious gas. Diners started choking and gagging, rushing for the entrance to escape the cloud.

"Dial it cough down Jim. Dial it d-down." Blair choked, tears running down his cheeks. He saw his sentinel crumple through the haze of the tear gas.

"Jack!" Daniel cried out, rubbing his eyes and gagging.

"Stay cough still Daniel. Cover your face!" Jack tried to do the same but fell onto all fours, trying not to cough up a lung. Daniel fell over and wheezed. He saw the 2 men in the haze. The black man was on the floor, apparently unconscious. The other man, the one with the cane was closer, as though he had tried to reach them. Daniel turned his head and the last thing he saw was a man wearing a gas mask.

"Sir, can you hear me?"

"Uuugh."

"Sir I need you to take deep breaths. Do you understand me?"

"G'wystpdbstr."

"I'm sorry sir, I didn't catch that."

"Gruuuum."

"This one's non-responsive."

"Sounds like my wife in the morning."

Daniel tried to shut off his alarm clock. It's too damn early to get up! However his arm didn't seem to want to cooperate with him. He focused on moving his arm but found he couldn't because it was strapped down. His eyes shot open. "What?"

"He's awake. Sir, can you hear me?" A bright light shone in his eye and he was momentarily blinded

"Ah! Yeah, yeah I c'n hear you. What happ'ned?"


End file.
